Thursday was a busy day for me.

Rioting in Philadelphia, bombed-out bunkers, violent factory strikes, and political assasinations -- the whole world melted away. And a good cup of hot chocolate.

I finally escaped. I was walking away from it all when Dr. Sarracino stopped me.

"Do you have a moment, Nathan? Could you please come into my office?"

I left the door ajar behind me, just in case. Inside, intricate tapestries decorated the wall, illuminated by the tilted slits of louvres in the windows and a Natural Light™. On one desk, the brass circle, Bagha Chal, sat next to a tin of leaden lions and goats.

The Doctor circled the end of his desk and stood facing me. The pungent fragrance of pipe-smoke saturated the carpet, bookshelves, and tapestries. These ghostlike wisps, through time, may even have caressed their fingers into the deep desk-wood that supported an aged, yellowing iBook laying open upon it.

I received my instructions, standing straight, facing him with open eyes across a Gulf of the ordered stacks of human thought, leaves inured with the incense of their brethren smoldering in the pipe. A moment later, I nearly skipped out the door, grinning insanely. I supressed myself into a casual stroll, but I could do nothing about the insane grin.

I have no choice but to obey.

Dr. Sarracino asked me to narrate for "Voices of Sacrifice", a choral arrangement of his poetry, at the Whitaker Center's Sunoco Performance Theatre, composed by Dr. Haines, performed by the Elizabethtown College Concert Choir and Etown Community Chorus, directed by Dr. Fritz.

This is sooo awesome -- My dream job is to read books on tape or be a voice actor. Maybe it's not too unrealistic...